Falling for the Enemy
by multifandomhaven
Summary: "When the war is over, we could marry. Give you a proper last name and a proper title." Robb told her with a wolf's smile. "You could be a Queen, Amalia. Better than your sister or your nephew or anyone else that befalls the Iron Throne."


_**Robb is getting to be a popular request, not that I mind - Richard Madden is gorgeous! This took me a few days to figure out how to finish the request in a one-shot, so sorry if it's kinda rushed! If you like what I've written please go check out my Tumblr imagininggameofthrones and request your own! I'd be happy to write something for you.**_

 _ **I also do request with your own OC, just fill out the form on the homepage and I'll see what I can do!**_

 _ **Requested by linakay98**_

* * *

Amalia was terrified. The men that captured her beat against the bars of the cage she was in with sticks, laughing and calling out to her with words that stung her to her very core. Her arms were bound to a post behind her and she'd long stopped trying to wiggle herself free - it was no use, it only bloodied her wrists further.

" _S' Kingslayer fucking you too?_ ," a man taunted from the shadows. _"Couldn't much blame him if he was with that pretty face ya got. Better than your sister's, that's for sure."_ _  
_

Jaime had threatened the man's life, only for the man to lunge toward him with clenched fists. Jaime's head snapped back with the harsh blows to his face, and Amalia begged the man to stop. She begged her brother to stop, too. Just let them say what they will, Amalia had told him, they were only words. Her tears had long been cried out, and now she simply sat slumped against the wooden post up her back.

"What are we going to do?" Amalia asked, looking at her brother's bruising face. "They'll kill us, Jaime."

Jaime sighed and shook his head, his green eyes on hers. "They won't. The Stark girls are still in King's Landing, we will be traded for them. Do not worry yourself, little sister."

"I will not be bargained for." Amalia wanted her brother to grab her hands like he always did when she was upset, but it was a fruitless thought. He was tied tighter to the post than she was. "I am worth nothing - I'm a bastard! Father will let me die while you live. I will be starved and raped and beaten-"

"Amalia, look at me! I won't let them have you, alright? Robb Stark hasn't arrived yet. He likely doesn't know you're here. If he's anything like his father he'll have more honor than he does brains - he won't let a woman sit in filth and starve. I'll give myself for you if I must. Do not worry."

"No!" Amalia begged him desperately. "If I don't die here and you give yourself up I will be hanged in King's Landing. If not by Father's hand then Cersei will have me killed. You can't, Jaime, please!"

"It will not come to that," Jaime promised in a quick whisper. "Don't draw any unneeded attention."

Amalia nodded and closed her eyes, trying to calm herself like Tyrion had taught her when she was a kid - deep breaths in through the nose, and out through the mouth. She repeated this like a prayer, and it wasn't long before she felt herself falling into a dark, dreamless sleep.

* * *

Robb's gait began to slow when he saw the cage, a cold fury burned within him. He was so close the man who'd had his father captured and ultimately killed that his hand itched to grab the sword at his waist. Would he kill him, Robb wondered, if he opened his mouth to taunt him? He would feel like it, but he had more restraint than that. He had to have restraint if he were to get his sisters home.

Grey Wind growled darkly beside him, the fur raising on the back of his neck.

"Shh, boy," Robb said quietly, his hand on the great beast's back. "We've got him now."

Robb could hear something that sounded like crying. He furrowed his brow, a small smile coming to his lips.

 _Was the Kingslayer weeping like a bloody woman_? The boy that still lived inside Robb wished to gather everyone in camp to let them see, but the man inside that stepped up when his father died kept him walking forward.

But no, Robb thought when he stopped in front of the muddy cage, that couldn't be right. It wasn't a man's cry that he was hearing. It sounded feminine. Broken.

In the moonlight he could then see that the Kingslayer wasn't the only person tied up inside the cage. Much to Robb's disappointment, Jaime Lannister wasn't the one crying. Attached to a post beside the man was a woman, smaller than the Kingslayer, and much more haggard. Her head was hung down to her chest, and Robb could see her shoulders shaking. Her long hair was caked with mud and hung limply into her face.

"Who are you?" Robb asked, his voice still that of a King, when he got close enough for the woman to hear.

She jumped, but looked up through her matted hair, her bloodshot eyes reaching his. The trail her tears had tracked shone in the light of the moon, and somewhere in his chest Robb's heart broke a bit for her. Robb thought that if it were under different circumstances, and after she'd had a bath or two, he might have found the woman attractive.

"Amalia Hill," the girl answered quietly, her raspy voice broken. His fingers nearly went for his canteen of water on his belt, but decided against it - too many people would see. He didn't think people would follow a king who so easily gave in to his prisoner's needs. He steeled himself with a deep breath and stood straighter, looking deep into her eyes.

"And what are you doing locked up in there with Jaime Lannister?" Robb asked hotly.

The girl breathed through her tears. "I would assume it's because I'm his sister."

"You're Tywin's bastard?" Robb asked quietly.

"Yes, Stark," came her brother's voice beside her. Robb watched the girl jump, clearly thinking he was asleep. The Kingslayer motioned to his sister with his head. "Is this how the Northmen treat women, then? Tie her up and leave her to rot without a proper trial? She had nothing to do with your father's execution. She was merely in the wrong place at the wrong time, this time and last."

Grey Wind growled threateningly at the Lannister, but Robb ordered him to sit. The great direwolf did as commanded, but never took his eyes off Jaime Lannister.

"You have some guts talking back to a King in you position, Kingslayer," Robb sneered. "But you're right. I don't treat women this way." Robb turned to the girl in ropes beside him, "I'll have the guards untie you. You will stay inside a tent, and _no_ harm will come to you. I've will send word to your father that you are here and safe. We will trade you for my sisters when the time comes."

Robb turned on his heel and walked away, barking orders at one of the guards to cut the girl loose.

* * *

After Amalia was sent to a tent, one very close to the King's own, she was allowed a bath and a change of clothes. The Northmen had no dresses or any of the pretty clothes she was used to, she were simply given a tunic and a pair of trousers much too large for her slim frame, not that she minded - Amalia felt better knowing that she didn't smell of her own waste anymore.

It had been many weeks since she'd been taken out of her cage, and she was still terrified. She'd heard what happened to women who were taken as prisoners - they were raped, beaten within an inch of their lives. Some got away with the promise of gold or some sort of wealth in return, or because of their House's prominence.

Amalia had no name to lean on. She was a Hill of Casterly Rock, conveniently born to a Lannister father.

 _I'm going to die in a camp with the enemy_ , she thought, her mind racing in the dark. She felt her breath seize in her chest and her eyes began to water just like every night before. She didn't want to die here! She was still so young, she wanted to travel the Seven Kingdoms, she wanted-

"Shh, shh, shh." A voice quieted her. Amalia felt a hand on her shoulder, and she backed away as quickly as she could. "I'm not going to hurt you. You're alright."

"P-Please," Amalia begged sadly. "Don't."

A lantern was lit and she watched as Robb Stark's face was illuminated by the light of the fire. It was the first night he'd come into his tent by himself, and it scared her more than she was willing to admit. Amalia'd had conversations with the King in the North. He'd even allowed her to speak to her brother on occasion.

"You're alright," Robb promised again, his blue eyes watching her sadly. "I won't hurt you, you have my word."

Amalia nodded her head and bit her lip to keep it from quivering. For some reason, whether it was his kind eyes or sincere smile, Amalia truly believed the King in the North. "Thank you."

"I'm sorry for what's happened," Robb started, easing toward her to show he meant no harm. He sat at the edge of her cot, watching Amalia carefully. "You weren't at Winterfell when the rest of your family came?"

Amalia shook her head. "No. Cersei and my father thought it would be disrespectful for me to come."

"Where were you when my father was murdered?" Robb asked again, the hint of a fire in his eyes. "Did you try to stop it?"

"I was there. Everyone was there," she admitted, her words thick in her throat. "My nephew is a gruesome boy. Nothing I could have said would've changed what happened, my lord. He would have had me beaten, and then my head would have been on a pike along with your fathers had I uttered a word."

Robb nodded slowly, taking in her words. "My mother and I have spoken. We've come to the agreement that if your father doesn't return the girls to us alive and healthy we are going to kill the Kingslayer."

Amalia's hand shot up to her mouth to muffle her cries. "P-Please-"

"No harm will come to you," Robb promised again. "I have made that clear to my men as well as my mother. Should we kill your brother you will be sent to Winterfell. You will stay there under my protection, not as a prisoner, but as a guest of the King in the North."

"You don't understand," Amalia begged him still, "if you kill Jaime then my father will kill me! He will send forces to Winterfell just for revenge on his son's death. If I do not beg for his life then mine will end. Jaime will carry on the Lannister name, my father will release him of his Kingsguard duty and have him married off. I have nothing to offer my family."

Robb watched her come apart before his eyes and wondered sadly if she'd ever been given a choice on anything. Against his better judgment, he went with what his heart told him to do, and grabbed her hand in his own. "I won't let that happen."

"Why do you care about what happens to a prisoner of war? Your prisoner?"

Robb offered a small smile. "It doesn't happen often."

"I don't expect my father to write you back on my behalf," Amalia told him suddenly, her hand unconsciously tightening around his larger one. "If my father agrees to trade your sisters for my brother then I will go to Winterfell. I will serve you as you see fit, but please let my brother live."

Robb's eyes were downcast. "He killed my father. He and your sister would see the rest of my family slaughtered if it please them. I can make no promises, Amalia, other than the one to keep you safe. Like you said earlier, it's not very often that a King spares his prisoners of war. It seems you've began to melt this icy heart of mine."

Amalia felt his thumb run over the back of her hand softly. "My King, are you falling for the enemy?"

"I fear I could be," Robb admitted quietly. "Would I be mad to think it could be returned?"

Amalia felt her heartbeat speed up slightly, but she answered him anyway. "I know not."

"When the war is over, we could marry. Give you a proper last name and a proper title." Robb told her with a wolf's smile. "You could be a Queen, Amalia. Better than your sister or your nephew or anyone else that befalls the Iron Throne."

"My King," Amalia whispered in disbelief, "is this truly your desire? To marry a bastard you hardly know?"

Robb chuckled. "My mother and father did not know each other when they were wed, and they grew to love one another fiercely. We could do the same, maybe even know more than the love they shared. I could give you anything your heart desired, Amalia."

"If I agree," she whispered, still shocked at his admission, "you could not kill your future brother by marriage. You would be called kinslayer."

"And your family if they slay my sisters."

Amalia's eyes lit up, and for the first time since she'd been captured she truly felt hope. "My King, marry me now."

"What?" Robb's eyes were wide, but his smile was even more so. "You've come to terms with the proposal rather quickly."

Amalia nodded quickly. "Yes! We will wed now, and I will write my father. I will be Queen in the North! He will not attack his own daughter, bastard or not. I will demand he send your sisters home as I send Jaime back to King's Landing. Your sisters returned will by my dowry, and Jaime will go to send the happy news."

Robb sat there silently, his eyes boring into her own. "Aye. We will marry with the sunrise. We will send a raven after the ceremony."

"You are a good King," Amalia told him quietly. "You have just saved thousands of lives."

"Our marriage will save my sisters," Robb smiled. "It will save your brother. Most of all it will make me a happy man."

* * *

 _ **A/N: And they lived happily ever after.**_ _ **They all went back to Winterfell and the Queen had all kinds of babies. :)**_ _ **No red wedding! That's my version anyway. Robb lives!**_


End file.
